The Wizard: The Alchemist
by Professor
Summary: This is the story of an Alchemist. Pretty self explainatory.


The Wizard: the Alchemist  
  
Professor Grey, had just finished his ten year course in magical chemistry at the wizarding university of Overbog. He loved potions and concoctions. He loved formulae and theorems. The excitement and mystery of the theories that come with the job. All in all, he was in love with chemistry!  
  
He was now going on to work for the British Ministry of Magic back in Glasgow. He was to the theory behind the halogen glow potion. It was a boring start to his career, but every genius had to start somewhere; and since Glasgow's Potion Laboratories were of the best in the world, he felt fortunate to get such a good opportunity; and he would be working with some of the best Scientific researchers in the world. The most highly thought of wizards in the world would be working with, and sharing his ideas. This was a great chance!  
  
He was just about to enter a conference to discuss the current state of production on the Potion which they would be researching. He knew the theory behind it well. He had studied it for some time, and as soon as he had heard he was getting the position. So he had done his homework. The witch who had discovered the formula had been one of his admirers in both school and university. Sheena Di Hullio, an Italian Potions Master, infamous for inventing the most common use of the Juniper berry: the Transparency Potion. The subject in question was the budget. The Ministry was only prepared to supply them with a very little amount of money, which would never be enough to get the equipment and chemicals needed for the experiments, never mind the salary of the Chemical Professionals.  
  
The conference room doors opened revealing a long table with many chairs wrapped tightly around it. James Grey stood up and lifted his briefcase, full of the information and files contained to argue his point.  
  
"Please proceed into conference room D and be seated in your designated place marks." A voice suddenly said from behind the waiters. James turned and saw that it was an older woman wearing a brown robe. He always had a strange obsession of wearing tartan robes. All of his robes, even his dress robes, were of Scottish tartan fashion. He was very patriotic in this way. He walked into the room and was addressed by an usher, who pointed him towards his chair.  
  
The conference began at exactly 14:00 hours and was over by 14:40. The budget had been raised from 2030 Galleons, to 7000 Galleons. This was thanks to both James' argumentative side and an adamant young American man by the name of Jackson Hollow. They two would now be working together, pretty much at the head of the team.  
  
The next few days he spent getting his possessions together and moving out of his tiny apartment in the city of Overbog, India, and relocating back to Edinburgh. He had his friends and family to help him with that. He had no wife or girlfriend. He had accumulated a few over the years, but could never seem to keep them. He had made his decision in life, he had chosen his career over his social life.  
  
On the morning of the 3rd September, he walked into the Glasgow Science Laboratories to his place of work. It was a huge building 26 stories high, and all dedicated to Scientific research. He had worked there once before when he was on work placement for university. It had been a magnificent experience. Also, working here would look good on his CV and would get him into many different jobs. Ideally he wanted to become a University. He loved to teach, but the competition to become a school teacher nowadays was fierce. He was qualified to be a Lecturer, but they would not accept him unless he had done a certain amount of research. James was hoping that if he could make a huge breakthrough on this, then the Universities would see his potential and take him on.  
  
As he walked in a witch with long blonde hair, tied up, greeted him.  
  
"Welcome Professor. I'm pleased to meet you." She smiled. But it was not a friendly or comfortable smile, it was a business-like and professional smile. As was the same as her voice. "I am Professor Jean Thomas. I will be working with you here."  
  
"Of coarse. Pleased to meet you Professor Thomas." He smiled back. "And its James."  
  
"Pardon?" She asked, looking bewildered.  
  
"James. Its my first name. You can call me that." He said back.  
  
"Oh, yes. I'm sorry. I didn't quite hear to properly." Jean replied. There was also the language barrier. James, coming from Glasgow, talked quick and without consideration to the listener. But Jean was Welsh and talked slower.  
  
"So, what do you think of this new project?" James asked her.  
  
"I'd call it more than a project." She scowled. "Actually I have no interest in this halogen potion. I personally think that us scientists are wasting our time. I have been fighting for eight years now to get the ban on Soluble Sulfii. This is just a way of getting me some money, so that I can continue my protest."  
  
James looked off-put. She had once looked intelligent and attractive, but now she merely appeared psychotic. "What's so wrong with Sulfii? It isn't dangerous. It helps people repair muscle tissue."  
  
"I lost the use of my right leg for two years because of it!" She flared up. "So if that isn't dangerous then I'd hate for you to be my Phamacist!"  
  
"Yes. The only reason it should do that is if you overdose." James had taken a short six month course in Pharmaceutical studies whilst in University.  
  
"Still! If it holds the risk of causing that amount of damage then it should not be prescribed."  
  
"Hold on! Did you overdose on it?" James asked getting quite annoyed with Jeans stubbornness.  
  
"I may have taken one or two tablets over the dosage."  
  
"Then it was your fault that the drug depleted your muscle strength." James said raising his voice a little. Jean shrunk back. He had already started to dislike her.  
  
The remainder of that day he went around meeting the rest of the team. They were mostly nice people. He knew he would get on fine with them. His supervisor was his old Chemical Anatomy lecturer from University. So he knew there was at least one friendly face which he could relate to.  
  
That night he got into his new Edinburgh flat and tried like hell to make some kind of a home out of it. It was not so much that he did not like the flat, but it was more that he thought that 'there was a place for everything, and everything should be in its place'. So he could not, for the life of him, decide on where to put the things which he owned. He fixed the larger things such as the bed, the couches, the refrigerator and the cooker. They were all fine. But he would do things like, setting up a room perfectly, every picture frame parallel, every rug centered and every CD in his vast collection stacked totally perpendicular in the holder, but then he would sit down and thing "This isn't right!", and he would rearrange the whole setting again.  
  
After he had given up and decided that it would never be perfect, he took out the plans and equations for the potion that he would be working on. If they could get this to work then the countries light spending budget would drop to a maximum of eight percent. The only thing was that the Ministry would then tax higher bills. He finally fell asleep over his notes and plans, having a dreamless slumber.  
  
The next day he awoke bright and ready for anything. That day would be the first of actually working on the Potion. He decided to get into work early, and to beat the Glasgow Edinburgh floo rush. So he left the fireplace at 06:15 and got out at Glasgow Central Station. From there he made his way along to the Science Offices. He had to do an illusion charm so as to make his robes inconspicuous to the pedestrians in Glasgow.  
  
He made his way up to the fourth floor where the lab which he would be working in was, and he started straight away organising notes and filing papers. He had been given his own small desk with a filing cabinet and a paper store.  
  
Professor James Grey knew fine well that he would be content working here for the next few months. 


End file.
